


On the Defense

by thirteenreasons_whynot



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: (He Kinda Really Deserves It), Brief Soccer Talk, Bullying, Cheesy, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, F/M, Mild Language, Reader Threatens Monty, Threats of Violence, hand-holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-31 05:01:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15112322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirteenreasons_whynot/pseuds/thirteenreasons_whynot
Summary: You're best friends with Tyler Down, despite being the captain of the varsity girl's soccer team. When Tyler is congratulating you on your latest victory, Monty (violently) interferes, and he questions your friendship with Tyler. You decide that you're tired of being the sweet, polite, popular girl everyone expects you to be, and you jump to his defense. Even if it could cost you your popularity.





	On the Defense

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So, this is my first ever imagine that I'm posting on AO3! You can also find it on Tumblr, under @thirteenreasonswhynot. I'm honestly pretty proud of it! Hope you guys enjoy.

“So, Y/N, tell us about the game last night,” Your friend, Lindsey instructs as she retouches her already-perfect lipstick. “Did you kick some snobby Ridgeview ass?” She pauses to look at you. “Break a bitch’s kneecaps?”

You raise an eyebrow at your blonde friend. “Uh, Linds, you do realize I play soccer, right? Not rugby? But if you’re asking if we won, yes. Four-to-two.”

She smiles proudly at you. “Question still stands.”

“Okay, we’re missing a more important question here,” Your other friend, Bethany, says, waving Lindsey off.

“Which is?”

The brunette shoots you a knowing smirk. “Was Tyler at the game last night?” Lindsey nods at the question, and they both look at you expectantly.

You roll your eyes at them. “Not this again. Guys, we talked about this. Ty and I are just friends. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Lindsey smirks at you deviously. “That still doesn’t answer the question, Y/N/N.”

You scoffed at their unrelenting teasing. You should’ve never told them about your crush on your photographer best friend. You sighed, finally giving them the answer they’ve been waiting for—and expecting. “Yes, Tyler was the game last night, but only because of Yearbook. If it weren’t for that, he most likely would’ve been at home.”

“Bet he paid really close attention to you,” Bethany wiggles her eyebrows suggestively. “His star player.”

You whack her playfully on the arm, then you spot a familiar flop of curly, brown tresses at the end of the hallway. Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. You ignore Lindsey and Bethany as they nudge you. “Hey, Ty,” you call to the boy, who’s currently engrossed in a conversation with another boy wearing punk armbands from Hot Topic and black ripped skinny jeans. “Hey, Cyrus."

The dark-haired boy offered you a lazy, two-fingered salute while Tyler gave you a toothy grin that sent those cliché, romantic-comedy butterflies through your belly. “Hey, Y/N/N. You did great last night!” He praised, before adding, “Like always.”

You nodded. “Thank you. I’m just glad you came.”

He scoffed incredulously. “Like I’d miss one of my best friend’s soccer games. Oh, and the pictures turned out great, by the way. I meant to come over after the game and show them to you.” Lindsey and Bethany turn to each other and smirk. Tyler pulls out his phone and begins to swipe through the pictures he took last night at the soccer game. He captured all sorts of things, like the cheerleaders hyping up the audience and some of the girls posing from the bench. Most of them, though, are of you and your girls dominating the field. He took the photos in such angles that flattered you but also captured your ferocity on the field.

Tyler smiled at you again, softer this time, the corner of his pink lips curving up slightly. “It’s you leading your team to victory.”

You beamed brightly back at him. “These are amazing, Ty. You did a great job, as always."

Before Tyler could respond to your praise, you hear a male voice call out, “Hey, Y/L/N! This freak bothering you?” You turned towards the direction of the voice, and your expression turned sour when you saw who it was. Montgomery de la Cruz, one of the stars of the baseball team and right-hand to Bryce Walker.

“No, Monty, he’s not. If you could kindly just—” You cut yourself when Montgomery pinned Tyler to the locker behind him with the slightest push of his hand.

“What have I told about bothering the popular girls, you perv? My girls?” You shuddered at Monty referring to you as one of his so-called “girls.” Especially if the stuff about the mysterious polaroids and the Clubhouse were true. “First, Sheri. Now, Y/N? Who the fuck do you think you are?” Tyler opened his mouth to try to muster up some sort of answer, but you beat him to it.

“I think he’s my best friend,” you snapped at the taller baseball player, “Now, back the fuck up.” Everyone around you looked at you in shock, but you ignored it. They were so used to you being so kind and innocent to everything around you. Not now; not when some asshole was bullying your best friend in front of you.

Monty turned to you with a scowl, his hand keeping Tyler against the wall. “What did you just say to me?”

“I said back the fuck off my best friend,” you repeated venomously, trying to wedge yourself between the two boys, “Maybe if you didn’t have your head so far up Bryce’s ass, you would’ve heard me the first time.”

“Holy shit,” You heard Cyrus whisper in amazement.

Monty let out a laugh in disbelief. “Wait, you actually consider him one of your best friends? Honestly, Y/N, I didn’t think you could stoop so low.”

That hit a nerve. The glare you’re sending him hardens. “If you want to talk about “stooping so low,” Monty, let’s talk about you letting Bryce rape Hannah the night of his party.” You smirked when the taller boy visibly pale and his eyes widen. “Yeah, that night when you and Alex were playing video games. You saw Hannah in the hot tub with Bryce and how much pain she had to have had on her face. Instead of going out there and stopping him like a real man, you sat back on the couch next to Alex and acted like nothing ever happened. At least he shows remorse for not stopping it. I bet if he knew it was her, he would’ve run out there and pulled Bryce off her. What excuse does that give you?”

Monty repeatedly opened and closed his mouth to come up with a response to your tearing down of his manhood. Nothing came out.

You stepped up to him to make sure you were in his face—which honestly looked funny because you were five-foot-two and he was almost six feet—to deliver the final blow. “I just sharpened my cleats last night, de la Cruz. I suggest you stay the hell away from Tyler if you don’t want them shoved up your ass.”

Realizing that any further assault on the photographer boy would not end on his part, he huffs and bites his lip angrily before stalking away. Once he rounded the corner, you sighed in relief and turned to your best friend. “You okay, Ty?”

Tyler’s grey eyes were staring into your Y/E/C ones, gleaming with shock, amazement, and… was that adoration? “I-I don’t know if I should be scared or turned on,” he confesses. Your cheeks immediately heat up. “Y/N, that was great! You knocked Monty down like a thousand pegs! I always knew that you were a badass, but I didn’t know you could do that!”

You shrug nonchalantly. “Well, he deserved it. He was bullying you, and I wasn’t going to let him get away with it."

His face softens, but the adoration you saw earlier in his doesn’t. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“Ty, you honestly thought I wasn’t going to do something? You’re my best friend. Of course, I’m going to be looking out for you,” You paused to playfully nudge him in the ribs. “Besides, if I don’t, no one else will.”

He chuckles. “It’s refreshing to know that I have one person looking out for me.”

Cyrus raises out wide in a “what-the-fuck” motion. “Dude, did you just forget about my existence? I mean, I get it. Y/N’s gorgeous but come on!”

You snorted. “Oh, Cyrus, it’s okay,” you teased, “You’re pretty, too.”

“Damn straight,” the goth boy exclaimed, “And don’t you fuckers ever forget it!” On that note, the lunch bell rang, and Cyrus practically raced in the direction of the cafeteria.

Suddenly, you feel a pleasant warmth encase your body as Tyler wraps his long, lanky arms around your waist and brings you into a hug. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he mumbles into your neck, “Thank you, Y/N.”

Feeling the cliché, romantic-comedy butterflies come back ten-fold, you wrap your arms around his neck and return his hug. Of course, this wasn’t the first hug you’d shared with him, but this one felt… different. “You’re welcome, Ty,” you mumbled back. You held the hug for a few moments before separating.

“You hungry?” He asks.

You scoff. “What kind of question is that? I’m always hungry!” You smile brightly at him.

He chuckles at you and nods his head towards the cafeteria and starts walking in that direction. Catching up to him and falling into step, you look down to his long, slender fingers before reaching over and hesitantly linking your pinky with his. Tyler feels it as he watches the adorable action unfold in his peripheral vision. Feeling your cheeks heat for the millionth time today, you continue your walk with Tyler to lunch.

Not noticing the pink that was resting on his cheeks that matched yours.


End file.
